


Hide With Me

by Lucy_Ferrier



Series: Clichés [1]
Category: The Halcyon (TV)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Fluff and Crack, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26174419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Ferrier/pseuds/Lucy_Ferrier
Summary: After the hotel is bombed, Priscilla once again gets back on trying to set Toby up with girls, resulting in him once again running away from them.
Relationships: Toby Hamilton/Adil Joshi
Series: Clichés [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964836
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Hide With Me

**Author's Note:**

> two fics in two days? yeah, I really don't want to work on my essay.
> 
> it was meant to be short and silly, and then it was slightly less short and slightly less silly, because imagine being in control of your own writing?
> 
> based on: "There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close"

It would have been too much to ask for his mother to stop setting him up with girls after the bombing of the hotel. Appalling as the thought seemed, it was almost as if she had gotten _worse;_ doubling down on her belief that _maybe this time, maybe this time,_ maybe if she kept adjusting, kept trying different girls and different events then maybe, one might stick.

It had caused more than one fight; the first of which ended extraordinarily quickly. Whilst Toby was wont to snap and sulk at the best of the times at these sorts of suggestions, he’d never previously _shouted,_ anger just barely managing to mask his hurt. And in fairness, it wasn’t as if _Toby_ knew how much she knew, or thought she knew. And as for Priscilla, all she could bring herself to acknowledge was the fact that if she couldn’t get Toby to change, he was going to get hurt again. She didn’t dare to think about the specifics of what he would be changing to achieve this, nor cast a single thought over the fact that it wasn’t actually possible. And in all honesty, if she truly had wanted him to change, she was well aware of the methods that might actually have a chance of achieving that; but such thoughts would have required her into actually acknowledging the issue at hand, something that despite everything, Priscilla still couldn’t quite bring herself to do.

It felt painfully familiar; darting through shelving units and storage doors, but this girl was quicker than Miss Buchanan had been, and whilst she knew how to take a hint, she was far, far too stubborn, and decidedly unwilling to be snubbed. The lengths she went to, apparently in an effort to not be embarrassed publicly by the man that was supposed to be escorting her was, well. It was rather embarrassing in its own right.

Seeing as Toby had barely managed to remain out of her reach in the cellar, he’d turned to the staff stairs. _Surely_ a girl whose family was of such high social standing would take offence at the thought of using the narrow _servant_ stairs. And she did indeed pause; Toby just barely catching her glare before she hiked up her skirt and followed him, his own eyes widening before he disappeared around the corner.

To say Toby ran into Adil in the corridor, whilst technically correct, was an accurate account of what happened next, would have made it seem as if the interaction was more social than it was, strictly speaking. Truth be told, Adil had been keeping his distance since he’s come back to work, and though it pained him, Toby had been trying to respect that. Though it made it that much harder for Toby to deal with his present company, when she remained so insistent on dancing and parading herself around on his arm, with Adil absent from the bar to ground him.

Presently, Toby running into Adil was definitely better described as a collision of some sort, especially since Toby had not actually been looking where he was going at the time nor intending to collect Adil on his way to the ground.

Toby somehow had managed to trip over Adil’s leg as he exited a guest room, sending the thankfully empty room service tray flying. Adil fell heavily on his back, Toby almost entirely on top of him. Adil held his breath as his mind tried to comprehend being so close to Toby again for the first time in months, but though Toby paused in that same deer-in-headlights panic, the shrill voice of his pursuer was more than enough to snap him out of it.

“Help me!” Toby pleaded, already attempting to scramble to his feet, pulling Adil to his own unthinkingly.

Green skirts peaked around the corner, and Adil felt a distant spark of jealously intwining with his sympathy. It wasn’t how he thought he and Toby would being speaking to each other again outside the general stiff employer-staff dynamic Adil had been enforcing since he’d come back, but well. It wasn’t like he could just abandon Toby to _this._

He grabbed Toby’s wrist, still hesitant about gripping his hand properly on principle, though Adi would have said it was because there was still the ever-present chance of being seen; the fact that they were now both very literally being followed, supporting that argument rather nicely. There were a number of storage closets in this part of the hotel, mostly used by the chamber maids; stacked high with sheets and towels and other linen. Upon coming across the first of which that wasn’t locked, Adil made to push the door open, having every intention of tugging Toby inside, and leaving himself to return to his shift, and the room service tray that was still abandoned on the floor several passages behind them.

“Mr _Hamilton,”_ a voice snapped behind them, none of the petulant charm that society girls usually used to wheedle their way into Toby’s affections, despite none of them ever being successful. She sounded more as if she were scolding a child; Adil could quite easily picture her getting along rather well with Lady Hamilton under different circumstances. 

Toby wasn’t thinking, not properly. All he could have said he was aware of in that moment was the fact that his date was seconds behind them, but couldn’t yet see them, and the fact that Adil was currently in front of him, placing him squarely between Toby and his hiding place. He didn’t mean to get that close, though he was, unconsciously at that moment of course, still thrumming with the feeling of having been thrown across Adil only a handful of minutes ago. Had he been thinking, he would of course been _over_ thinking, and therefore, in all likelihood, he wouldn’t have pushed Adil into the storage closet ahead of him.

Adil felt Toby push him from behind, the force not particularly strong but with enough panic and intention that once Adil had turned the handle, his momentum threw the door open ahead of them, banging against a shelf with a dull thunk. Adil barely had a chance to turn around before Toby had swung the door shut behind them, the crack around the doorframe now the only light in the space.

The closet was, of course, just as small as it had appeared to be on the outside. Which might have been something akin to unfortunate or unexpectant; many of the storage areas were in fact, much _bigger_ on the inside, a neat trick of architecture that Toby imagined a Lord Hamilton of years gone by might have been rather proud of.

The shelves also appeared to be fairly old and in need of replacement, only in the sense that they didn’t appear all that permanent; they sat out away from the walls, untreated pine that was well worn enough that at least neither of them would have had to worry about splinters. The linen spilled down the shelves in messy piles, dusty in some places and starched clean in others. Despite his eyes having not yet adjusted to the low light, Adil was hyperaware of where Toby was, having been pushed back far enough that the last spare space of wall at the very back of the closet was pressed against him, Toby having braced his hands against the wall as well, leaning over Adil as if he could make them both a part of the linen, wood, and brick. His breath ghosted over Adil’s cheek in short gasps from the brief exertion in the corridor, and his chest only just managed not to brush against Adil’s. Outside, their pursuer could be heard pacing the corridor, pausing for a moment outside the door, long enough that Toby held his breath, eyes wide, until she left. Adil glared daggers into the knot of Toby’s tie, and tried not to move.

“Why do you always do this to me when I’m not supposed to kiss you?” Adil breathed out, staring up at Toby with a pained expression once he was sure that there was no longer anyone outside the door.

Toby swallowed, staring at Adil’s mouth, eyes wide, as if he’d only just taken stock of their position, of the way he had pinned Adil against the wall, linen threatening to fall off the shelves beside them.

“Who says I’m not supposed to kiss you?” Toby bit his lip, but managed to hold Adil’s gaze in challenge even as his pulse started thrumming in mild panic again, and he mentally started contemplating escape.

“ _You,_ are the most _ridiculous-”_

Toby pressed forward, pinning Adil further against the wall and silencing him properly as he kissed him, one leg sliding between Adil’s entirely unconsciously, or maybe merely because it took better advantage of the lack of space. Adil whined quietly, curing his hands into Toby’s shirt as Toby’s fingers wound through his hair.

“You’re a nightmare.” Adil glared at Toby again after pulling back, chest heaving and lips just starting the show the barest hint of swelling from the pressure of the kiss.

“I’m sorry.” Toby winced, nevertheless running his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Don’t be sorry yet,” Adil muttered, still pouting slightly. He hesitated for a second, seeming to debate with himself for a moment before evidently coming to some sort of resolution as he slid his hands up Toby’s chest, cupping his face, looking up at him with a very serious look before continuing. “Be sorry once we get out of the bloody closet.”

**Author's Note:**

> heh, closet jokes. I promise it was much funnier at one-thirty in the morning


End file.
